O Death
by bgnet
Summary: "William T. Spears, Supervisor of the Shinigami Dispatch Association, was wide awake, just about to finish up his overtime. Despite being the cold hearted, emotionless creature he was, even he couldn't help but get terrible chills from storm outside." a.k.a. what happens when William gets too much of an ego. Not too thrilled with the ending, but I tried.


The night was dark and dreary, and the sky was having a tantrum in the shinigami realm.

That was odd.

It never rained in the shinigami realm.

Never.

Except for when_ he_ happened to be there.

And whenever_ he_ was there, it was never for a good reason.

There was no exception to this.

Fortunately, most of the millions of shinigami who lived there were oblivious to this, caught in a deep sleep, unfazed by the everlasting deluge right outside their windows.

_Most_ of them.

William T. Spears, Supervisor of the Shinigami Dispatch Association, was wide awake, just about to finish up his overtime. Despite being the cold hearted, emotionless creature he was, even he couldn't help but get terrible chills from storm outside.

Although William was never nervous or scared, even his hands shook slightly at the thought of him being here. As soon as he entered the last form into its appropriate binder, he got up to leave.

However, as soon as he did, he jumped, having a miniature heart attack. Immediately, he gulped.

_He_ was there, sitting right beside him.

_He_ had on a suit, similar to all the shinigami's, except he looked much older; to a human, he would look as if he were in his late 60's to early 70's. His long, black cane was sat beside him, leaning against the wall. The creepiest thing, perhaps, was his ring. Unlike the rest of the shinigami, this man did not need a death scythe to reap a soul. All he simply needed to do was touch the person, and the job was complete. Not only that, but he could retrieve a soul of a dead person, and return it to them, unharmed. He made no means to hide this ring, refusing to wear black gloves like the community of shinigami.

This man was Death, the boss of the shinigami. He was the one who had the most power out of all of them.

But most of all, he was intimidating. His threats were not empty, they were promises.

"Mr. Spears, please, have a seat. I believe we have some….business to discuss," Death said, staring directly into William's eyes.

"Yes sir," William said, sitting down immediately. "What business do we have to discuss? Do you need my assistance?" he asked, making sure to keep his voice steady. He didn't want to seem terrified of his boss, even though, deep down in his gut, he was.

As usual, Death showed no emotion, and his gaze never left William's eyes. His stare was unblinking. "I would have expected more of one of my best shinigami, William. You've been getting a bit arrogant lately," Death said.

William felt his already present fear grow, and consume him. He had displeased the boss…and the boss did not want to be displeased.

Not giving William a chance to defend himself, Death continued. "I've been observing your actions closely over the past few months. You're doing a good job at keeping the shinigami in tow. However, while doing that, you are acting as if you are their one and only boss. Not only that, but you have also been acting inappropriately towards your fellow senpai, acting as if you maintain a higher rank than them. You may be the supervisor, but you are also a shinigami, and as a shinigami, you maintain an equivalent rank with, for example, Eric and Grell. You do recall the fact that I am your boss, and that you took an oath to never act as if you were me, don't you?" Death asked.

"Yes sir, I do," William said, trying not to let his breathing or expression show how much he wanted to run right now.

"Good," Death said. "Now, don't let me catch you acting like this again, or else," Death said. "Please try to remember that the only reason you hold this position is because of me. It should have gone to Mr. Sutcliff, with him having an A average and you having a B. Do not make me ever question you as supervisor of the Dispatch Association again, Mr. Spears. Are we clear?" Death said, every syllable coming out in a crisp way.

"Yes sir, I understand. It will not happen again," William said, avoiding Death's gaze the best he could.

"Good. I do hope that the next time we see each other, it is a friendly meeting. Till the next time, Mr. Spears," Death said. He grabbed his cane, before exiting without another word. Less than a minute after his departure, the skies cleared.

Death had returned to the human realm.

William managed to calm himself before packing up his things, and heading to his house.

Tomorrow, he would make sure to start his day with a much lower ego.


End file.
